I was born a fighter.
Abandoned by my parents, I spent my life forging my own path—one guided by my
fists and paved with pain.

Untouchable in the
ring, I destroyed everyone who faced me, but that’s where my victories ended.
Outside the ropes, I repeatedly failed the few people who loved me. Including
my best friend, Liv James—the one person I’d die to protect.

Even though I didn’t
deserve her, Liv never stopped believing in me. Never gave up. Never let go. After all, she understood
what I’d lost, because she’d lost it too.

Liv was everything to
me, but she was never truly mine.

That was going to
change.

I lost my first love,
but I refused to lose my soulmate.

Now, I’m on the ropes
during the toughest battles of my life.

Fighting to be the man
she deserves.

Fighting the solitude
of our pasts.

Fighting for her.

Fighting Solitude

Prologue

“Mia!” I shouted.

It was worthless. She’d been deaf
since the day I met her.

She’d never once heard my voice.

She’d never heard the deep rumble of
my laugh when she was excited, signing so fast I could barely keep up.

She’d never heard my content sigh when
she barged into the locker room after a fight—just her presence soothed the
lingering madness brewing within me.

She’d never heard me whispering my
deepest fears into her ear as she fell asleep on top of me.

She’d never heard the reverence in
which I cried her name each and every time I took her body.

And she’d never once heard the ease
in which the words I love you tumbled
from my lips as I stared into her deep, jade green eyes.

But as I screamed her name while
watching her petite body seizing in the passenger seat beside me, I’d never
needed her to hear me more.

“Mia. Oh God. I’ve got you, baby.”

She was still thrashing violently as
I made my way around to her door, yanking it open while pleading with whatever
god was willing to help.

When she stilled, a whole new level
of silence filled the air around us. It wasn’t the absence of sound.

It was the absence of life.

“Mia, breathe!” I roared as her
chest remained agonizingly still. “Help me!” I screamed at the closed emergency
room doors, but no medical savior rushed out with the miracle I so desperately
needed.

My hands shook wildly as I released
her lifeless body from the seatbelt.

“I’ve got you, just hang on. Please
just hang on, Mia,” I whispered lifting her into my arms and sprinting through
the sliding doors. “I need a doctor! She’s not breathing!”

Nurses rushed towards me in slow
motion as the seconds without air in her lungs passed at a terrifying speed.

Breathe.

A doctor appeared with a gurney and quickly
took her from my arms.

The immediate loss was
staggering.

Hope became my only solace.

She needed help that I wasn’t
capable of giving her, but that didn’t stop me from following close behind as
they rolled her away. I was on the verge of self-destructing; letting her out
of my sight wasn’t an option.

I stood motionless in the doorway
while doctors and nurses swarmed around her. Their mouths moved frantically,
but without my hearing aids I was worthless to make out the words their faint
voices carried.

I never wore my hearing aids when I
was with Mia. There was no point. She rarely spoke with her voice.

We’d spent four years building a
relationship with our hands.

Those hands had told me animated
stories that made me laugh until my face hurt from smiling.

They’d fought with me relentlessly,
but always ended the night raking down my back in silent ecstasy.

Her fingers had fluidly signed I love you more times than I could ever
count—or forget.

But as I felt the nurse attempting
to physically remove me from the room, my eyes became fixated on her limp hand
dangling off the side of the bed. It was the only sight more frightening than
watching her flail mid-seizure.

Born and raised in Savannah, Georgia, Aly Martinez is a
stay-at-home mom to four crazy kids under the age of five, including a set of
twins. Currently living in South Carolina, she passes what little free time she
has reading anything and everything she can get her hands on, preferably with a
glass of wine at her side.

After some encouragement from her friends, Aly decided to add
“Author” to her ever-growing list of job titles. Five books later, she shows no
signs of slowing. So grab a glass of Chardonnay, or a bottle if you’re hanging
out with Aly, and join her aboard the crazy train she calls life.